Chatty
by jennytork
Summary: When Dean shows up to get Sam at Stanford, he isn't alone. He has brought a creature with him.


CHATTY

October 30, 2005

Sam's brother Dean had broken into his house, tussled with Sam, and then dropped the huge bomb on him that their father was missing. Excusing himself from his girlfriend Jess's arms, Sam followed his brother outside, arguing all the way to the classic Impala.

When Dean opened the trunk, Sam noticed a small new duffel bag tucked into a corner. And it was a little unusual for his car-careful brother to leave the rear window halfway open.

But observations were put aside as Sam listened to the eerie EVP on the voicemail. _I can never go home._

They talked, and Sam agreed to go with him to find their father. But as he was going back up the stairs, he clearly heard Dean say, "All done? ... Good hunt? ... yeah, he's comin'."

Ice slid down Sam's spine. Now he _knew_ he would be coming with Dean.

Because his brother appeared to have lost his mind.

**SPN CHATTY SPN CHATTY SPN**

All during what was left of the night, Sam pondered how to bring up what he'd heard. By the time the Impala pulled up for gas, Sam was frustrated to find that he still had no ideas at all.

_Maybe some music would help,_ Sam thought. He opened the door and half-leaned out so he could get the box of tapes.

He was picking his way through the tapes when Dean returned. "Hey." He waved a bag of chips and a candy bar. "Breakfast?"

Sam chuckled. "No, thanks. Hey, how are you paying for-" He broke off as he saw Dean open a single-serving can of tuna and set it in the floor of the back seat.

Sam's eyebrows climbed into his bangs as a black paw snaked out from under his seat and tugged the tuna out of sight.

"What the _hell?"_ Sam gasped, rocketing out of the car and sending tapes flying. He staggered backward in shock, and only Dean's quick grab saved him from falling over the extended gas hose. "Dean, what the _hell!"_

"You said that already," Dean said, steadying him until he had both feet underneath him and then turning to disconnect the gas now that the tank was full. "Get in, we've only a few miles to go."

"Get in?" Sam gaped at his brother. "Get _in?_ Dean, there's something _alive_ under my seat!"

"That's just Chatty. She won't hurt you," Dean said, putting the tapes back into the box and replacing it under Sam's seat. He chuckled when it was shoved right back out. "Behave yourself, Sammy's freaked out as it is."

Sam glared at him. "It's _Sam_ - Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old." But he got back into the car, trusting his brother. "I can't wait to hear _this_ one."

Dean's smile unnerved him more than he could say.

**SPN CHATTY SPN CHATTY SPN**

A cat. In the Impala.

As the brothers rolled into Jericho, California, Sam knew he should be focusing on the case at hand – on finding their father.

Dean had a cat. In the back seat of the Impala. And clearly had for some time.

Why had their father – why was Dean keeping a _cat_ in the – what the _hell!_

Dean's fond chuckle interrupted Sam's thoughts. "I can see that big brain whirlin' a mile a minute. What's up?"

"A _cat?"_

"Is _that_ what you're hung up on? Dad's missing, and _Chatty_ freaks you out?" From the back seat came a meow and Dean shot, "Okay, you, no comments from the feline gallery!"

The cat gave a distinct hiss, and Sam asked, "Why do you call it Chatty?"

"She can't be quiet to save her life. So I call her Chatty Cathy." A louder meow. "Yeah, I know you hate it – and I don't care! It fits better than 'Belle'!"

Another meow – and Sam would swear this one sounded downright offended!

Dean snorted. "Yeah, a princess. In your own mind, maybe..."

"Hang on a second!" Sam yelped. "You can _understand_ it?"

"She's a _she_ - and yes, I can. Hold on a second." He pulled the Impala over and Sam saw several police cars on the bridge. "Here we go," Dean said, rolling the window partway down and turning off the car. He pulled an official looking ID from the glove box and turned to look into the back seat. "You remember what to do?"

Chatty hopped onto the back seat – giving Sam his first good look at the large all-black cat with the brilliant green eyes – and licked her left front paw for a second.

Then she barked. Perfectly.

Dean broke into a broad grin. "Attagirl!" He looked over at Sam. "Ready?"

"What—" Sam pointed at Chatty. "How'd she-"

Dean laughed. "We're supposed to be cops – and she's our police dog."

"But she...she's a _cat_... and she _barked?" _

"She's bilingual," Dean grinned. "Seriously, I'm not certain myself. She heard a dog barking a little while after we joined up and next thing I knew she was mimicking it. It's become an alert signal. Okay, let's do this!"

**SPN CHATTY SPN CHATTY SPN**

The brothers' confrontation with law enforcement on the bridge went spectacularly badly. All they were able to find out was that the latest victim had a girlfriend, and what her name was. The officers were antagonistic about 'outsiders' coming into 'their' case, and Dean just could not seem to resist snarking back.

Just when Sam was despairing of them being arrested for disruption of the peace, both brothers' heads snapped around as distinct barking from the Impala cut through the tense atmosphere.

Time to leave.

**SPN CHATTY SPN CHATTY SPN**

Locating the victim's girlfriend turned out to be easy, as she was putting up missing person posters all over town. Talking with her initially was another dead end – until a legend of a murderous woman ghost came to light.

The brothers' next visit was to the library, where a bit of research turned up a story frighteningly similar to the legend, and a name – Constance Walsh.

It also proved to both brothers that they still were almost in perfect synch. "Just like riding a bicycle, huh, Sammy?" Dean had teased back in Stanford, and Sam saw the truth behind the jab.

Sam wasn't quite sure how he felt about it – but he could see right through his brother and realised that their seamless meshing on the job comforted Dean right down to his very soul.

As they were leaving the library, Chatty suddenly spoke up with a series of staccato yowls.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I'm tired, too. Let's find a place to crash and-"

"Dean," Sam gasped, pointing. They had headed back onto the bridge, as it connected the two halves of the town, and Sam had noticed a woman standing on the railing.

As they watched in helpless horror, she threw herself off.

Instantly, both brothers were out of the parked car and over to the spot where she had jumped. "Do you see her?" Dean yelled over the sound of the crashing waves.

Before Sam could reply, the strange sound of Chatty's barking erupted again. The brothers turned at the danger signal, just in time to hear and see the Impala roar into life.

"Chatty can drive?" Sam asked incredulously.

"No," Dean said, tugging the keys from his jacket pocket. "Not even with these."

Then they were running for their lives as the car lurched forward. The dash ended with both diving from the bridge just as the Impala raced behind them.

Sam caught himself on a lower level. Dean missed, ending up – thankfully unhurt – in the mud below.

When he climbed back up and they got into the – now, thankfully non-possessed – car, Chatty hissed all the way to the motel.

"I know," Sam commiserated with the cat. He couldn't understand her most of the time, but that came through loud and clear. "He smells like a toilet."

"Hey," Dean growled, then settled for grumbling under his breath as Chatty sneezed her agreement with Sam.

**SPN CHATTY SPN CHATTY SPN**

The next few hours passed in a blur for Sam. The ghost was confirmed to be a Woman in White, and they also confirmed she was, indeed, Constance Walsh. But they also found their dad was no longer in Jericho.

Dean got himself cleaned up – and then arrested. So Sam made a call to get the officers out of the station and give Dean time to get free, and then found himself driving alone in the Impala to do the legwork. To his intense relief, Chatty had retreated to her spot underneath the seat, giving him much-needed space.

He was still uncomfortable with the bizarre animal. She seemed a little too human at times.

That creature had secrets. Sam was not happy about that. He had to have a serious talk with his broth-

Sam's thoughts cut off in a shocked gasp as the wheel was jerked out of his hands and a woman appeared beside him to the accompaniment of Chatty's sudden hissing. _"What_ the -"

Sam recognised her instantly – Constance, the murderous Woman in White. She turned mournful eyes to him. "Take me home."

"No," Sam replied firmly.

Suddenly the Impala's locks slammed down. With a powerful roar, the car surged forward until it was parked outside a house that had clearly seen better days.

"I can never go home," she sighed.

Sam frowned. "You're afraid to go home," he realised.

"I'm so cold," she sighed, inching closer. "Hold me..."

"You can't kill me," Sam said, trying unsuccessfully to push her away. "I've never been unfaithful!"

A cold smile touched her lips and she opened her mouth to deliver a reply-

That never came. An ebony blur slammed into the ghost, who arched and screamed in pain before vanishing.

Sam barely had a chance to think _How-_before the ghost was back. This time, however, her face was a deathmask. She growled and reached for Sam.

Chatty hissed and swiped both front paws at her. She screamed and vanished again.

Sam looked at the house and snarled, "I'm taking you home." He slammed the car into gear and floored it.

Dean arrived on the scene just in time to see his beloved Impala smash full-force into the clapboard house. "Sammy!" he roared, racing to the crash site. "Chatty!"

Once inside, Dean helped Sam out of the car. "You okay?" He didn't ask about Chatty – he saw the black cat jump out of the ruined window and advance on the ghost. Cat and creature growled at each other.

"Dean, the ghost," Sam gasped. The brothers saw her turn and raise a hand.

A bureau flew toward them, but Chatty jumped at the ghost, making her wail as she vanished again.

"Dean," Sam gasped as they easily dodged the flying furniture. "How did-"

Constance flickered back into view, sheer murder in her expression.

"...Mommy..."

Constance's head snapped around as two small ghosts materialised. With looks of rapture, they embraced her. "You've come home to us, Mommy..."

Constance screamed one final time and all three ghosts were sucked into the earth – forever banished.

"That's why she couldn't go home," Dean gasped. "This was where she drowned her kids. She was too scared to face them."

"Dean, Chatty dispersed her," Sam said. "How in the world..."

"Look at her paws," Dean ordered, looking over his car. "Busted headlight and a shattered window – easily fixed. Good job, by the way, Einstein."

Sam approached Chatty, who was shaking her paws. "Thanks," he said distractedly, crouching down. His eyes widened as he saw the white crystals clinging to her fur. "...salt? Where did she get-"

"There's a small bit of it in a dish under the seat," Dean said, climbing into the car and putting it in reverse, easing it out of the house.

Sam gaped at him and Chatty. "...but how did you know how to do that?" he found himself asking the cat.

Chatty's only reply was a regal-sounding sneeze.

**SPN CHATTY SPN CHATTY SPN**

Even though they had not lost their ability to work as a well-oiled machine, Sam was insistent that he still had to go to his interview. "It's my whole future on a plate," he told Dean.

So Dean drove him back to his apartment and watched him go inside. Chatty hopped up in the seat beside him as he drove away from the building. He sighed heavily, running his fingers over her warm, furred skull.

And so, he felt when her entire body stiffened and she began to softly growl. Her body twisted and she clawed at the window.

"What the-" Dean pulled over, frowning deeply. He watched her for a second, then the radio stuttered. His eyes widened as they snapped to the radio, which stuttered twice more.

"...Sammy..." he whispered. He shot the car into gear and spun the wheel one-handed, making a U-turn and flooring it.

Reaching the apartment in less than two minutes, Dean glanced up as he got out of the car. He could see a flickering light in what he knew to be Sam's bedroom, and his heart sank into his stomach. "...oh, no..."

Taking the stairs three at a time, Dean burst into the apartment. He could hear the distinctive crackling roar. A kick made short work of the bedroom door.

Sam was on the bed, crab-scuttling backward as he screamed Jess's name. Fire was everywhere, and Dean could just barely make out that there was a burning body pinned to the ceiling.

Surging forward, Dean grabbed Sam and hauled him off the bed and out of the bedroom. Sam was screaming in his ear, but Dean couldn't understand a word he said. He pulled Sam across the living room, pausing only for the two seconds it took to snag Sam's discarded duffel bag that rested by the door and haul it over his own shoulder.

They had just made it out the front door when the apartment exploded behind them.

Half an hour later, Dean walked back to the Impala from watching the firefighters battle the blaze. He sat on the bumper beside Sam, who was staring straight ahead, his fingers moving against Chatty's fur, seemingly without his even being conscious that she was in his lap.

Dean touched his shoulder to Sam's. He didn't say anything.

Sam turned to face him, face and eyes blank of emotion. Slowly, he got up, depositing a purring Chatty into Dean's arms. His voice was tight, as he walked around the car and closed the trunk.

"We got work to do."

From Dean's arms, Chatty meowed a sad affirmative.

END


End file.
